


just you and me

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming Out, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: Gladio finds that Lestallum beer, and Ignis makes an assumption.Written for day two of Gladio Week on twitter, for the prompts "between you and me..." and "a night in Lestallum"
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26
Collections: Gladio Week





	just you and me

Taking the Leville’s impressive spiral staircase two steps at a time, twisting his loose hair up and into a bun, Gladio thought he might have been the early one for once. There were a handful of minutes until the clock struck ten – and yet Gladio was completely unsurprised to find Ignis already patiently waiting.

At this hour, the city was heaving with bodies, but the hotel lobby was quiet. Only one clerk stood at the counter, flicking distractedly through their hefty guestbook. Ignis himself sat beyond, considering a leaflet or a brochure out by the fountain. With his legs crossed and his hand thoughtfully propping up his chin, he paid no heed to the busy world around him, uncaring of such curious eyes upon a stranger in their town. As Gladio grew closer he could see the dark hair still wet at the nape of his desk, fresh from a generously long shower. His black dress shirt had been replaced with white pinstripes, open at the collar to reveal sharp bone and a steel skull. Somewhere he had found black polish for his shoes.

Gladio had followed his lead, choosing dark navy jeans and only his green jacket. It might have been too risky for all black. On their first night in town Gladio wasn’t willing to risk disturbing the peace. But just like Ignis he was unwilling to give up the reassuring weight of his necklace. Other than their jewellery they had stripped back entirely, with Ignis missing even his glasses and suspenders.

Gladio grinned, giving him a playful once over. Whistling long and low, both the heads of Ignis and the clerk snapped up. “Look at you,” Gladio rumbled. “Who you trying to impress, huh?”

Putting the brochure - _Altissian waves_ , Gladio read in fine font – aside, Ignis’ responding smile was bold. “The pigeons,” he replied. “They’ve been clamouring for me since I arrived. Haven’t you heard?”

“Can you blame them,” he teased, taking in the sharp cut of Ignis’ jaw, his shapely legs. It was enough to run his mouth dry. “Surprised they haven’t stolen you away to their love nest.”

“I could never fly the coop,” Ignis said promptly with an infectious toothy grin, and Gladio grunted.

“Damn those puns of yours. But no harm, no fowl.” He couldn’t help but grimace as the words left his mouth but Ignis laughed beautifully. A touch of joy lit up his expression, pure delight, and Gladio was weak enough for his heart to ache. Rather than speak he shoved his hands in his pockets and ignored the citizens who wandered by. Even in their casual clothes they still attracted lingering looks. In the face of Ignis’ earnestness, Gladio could not blame them.

“Shall we,” Ignis offered, nodding his head towards the thoroughfare. At this hour hardly any of the markets had packed up for the night. Deliveries were still being made. Money still changed hands and the overnight crews worked hard in the alleyways. It was even nosier than Insomnia thanks to the size, with winding alleyways and apartments all piled atop one another. Gladio had never known somewhere so teeming with sound and life.

As always Gladio followed his lead. There were rows and rows of cramped and busy restaurants. Amongst them were food vans, vending machines, and for the vendors the night was still young. And still disgustingly warm – the heat would have his shirt sticky within minutes. Gladio needed an ice cold beer to stay cool.

Ignis led him out towards where the noise was amplified but looked back towards him. He never had eyes for any other. For as long as Gladio could remember, Ignis watched only his friends. “I was thinking about that beer that you saw advertised as we entered the city.”

Gladio damn near salivated at the thought. His flask was low on warm water and he was sick of stale cola. Lestallum’s finest sounded like perfection. “Hell yeah, if you’re up for it.”

“When in a new city I find it’s always best to try new things,” he replied with a smile. It was easy to match his pace, long legs allowing long strides, and Gladio stepped in close to allow a group of strangers to pass them by. Amongst the intermingling scents of the city, Ignis’ cologne was enthralling.

It wasn’t long until they reached the market. Flower stalls and boxes of sweets had been replaced with ale and party supplies. Food sizzled and spices were scattered. It was enough to make Gladio’s belly rumble.

“Smells so damn good,” Gladio declared.

“It’s a shame that the others declined to join us,” Ignis mused. “Yet it’s nice to just share the evening, the two of us.”

Gladio let his eyes fall to the sweet curve of Ignis’ waist. “Yeah,” he said, and stepped forward to create a path through the lingering crowd. Ignis followed closely. The temptation to grasp his hand slid dangerously close to all consuming.

“The others abed, then?” He asked once they were back into to open street. His kept his voice carefully low.

“Noct was dozing when I left. Jared was mediating a game of scrabble.”

Ignis blew out a breath and laughed. “Should hold it all together from the brink of disaster.”

“We can only hope,” Gladio grinned and the bar came into sight on their left.

Now there were fewer steel chairs and tables out in the foyer. Only one of them was occupied. A group laughed and joked loudly amongst themselves and a waiter wiped down the table furthest to them, gathering used glasses. The building itself was crammed with people, a mass of bodies and heavy plates of food being served up at an impressive rate. Every table inside was heaving and the scent of cooking meat and spices filled the evening air. Gladio’s mouth was already watering.

They claimed their own table closer to the foyer. Sitting opposite to one another so they would be able to wait and watch every corner, they settled down. As always the chair was a little narrow for Gladio’s thighs, but he didn’t breathe a word of complaint.

“What’s on your mind tonight,” Ignis asked and Gladio shrugged. Two laminated menus were neatly tucked into a wooden stand.

“Skewers sound pretty good.”

“They seem a staple of a Lestallum citizens diet, I must say. You fit right in.”

“Bet they ain’t as good as yours, though.” Gladio responded without pause and Ignis flashed his teeth in a smile.

“How very kind,” he drawled, and gave a perfunctory glance at the drink menu. His smile refused to falter all the while. “A beer for you, then?”

Gladio rest his forearms against the table. It groaned beneath his weight and Ignis laughed when he hastily removed himself. “Anything we recognise?”

“Not a one. There’s Ramuh’s Tremor, Malboro’s, Tashim’s-”

Gladio waved his hand vaguely. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he said, and Ignis nodded.

“Keep an eye out,” he murmured with one last careful look at the city streets and turned on his heel to stride into the bar, merging into the crowd of bodies. The tap of his shoes earned a curious look from the next table along, a man taking him in from head to toe before he passed from sight. He murmured something to his companions, and one craned her neck to catch one last glimpse. Exineris Industries was displayed boldly on the back of the work jacket slung over the back of her chair.

They laughed a moment as they exchanged admiring looks. A woman inched her chair in and murmured something no doubt wicked, the man looking playfully scandalized and taking a gulp of his own beer. The four who sat in a tight circle all gossiped amongst themselves and Gladio eyed them cautiously, leaning back in his groaning chair. The strangers looked between each other and Ignis’ form – his rear if the sudden flush upon their cheeks meant anything – and Gladio grunted.

Unaware that he was carefully watching each of the small group turned around to glance at their table. Immediately upon spotting Gladio’s serious expression they hurriedly looked away, cowed. Silence fell as they distracted themselves with their food. Their flushes worsened, unable to meet each other’s eyes, and Gladio looked away, satisfied.

He supposed there was no harm meant yet. They were just another few pairs of curious eyes, wholly innocent. It was easy to be enthralled by a stranger as handsome as Ignis. It was Gladio’s own burden to bear. Day by day, no matter how mucky the man became surging through the wetlands, Ignis seemed to only grow more and more handsome with exasperation and dirt across his cheeks. Gladio’s teenage surges of envy thankfully no longer plagued him, only to be replaced with an attraction that would not bring him any peace.

Over the years Gladio had said nothing to him of the truth. Gladio would say nothing, and let the evening remain pleasant.

Around the tables it was as if it were still the middle of the day. Passers-by shouted and laughed uproariously, and workers loudly dropped wooden pallets and backed up their delivery vans through the thoroughfare. Few seemed to be getting ready for an evening in. There was no such thing as winding down here, Gladio supposed, the same way it was by Insomnia’s industrial areas and docklands. There were always a thousand lights and bright eyes within the city, all the way until the first touch of dawn’s light, and despite the unfamiliarity of the streets it almost made Gladio feel at home.

While it hadn’t been the trip they were expecting in any way, it still remained fruitful and blessed with hope. As much as they had lost they still stood to gain and Gladio looked onward to a brighter future – home with Noctis as their king, the Lady Lunafreya as their queen, and Ignis and Prompto remaining at their side to steal calm moments when all else was chaotic.

It was good to ride out the wave of serenity. Even if it never lasted, the harder days would pass too, and moments like these made it all worth it.

A beer tapped against the table. Gladio started out of his daydream and found Ignis’ smile waiting, perfectly wry. “Thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye out.”

With a grunt he grabbed the bottle. It was a wonderful chill beneath his palm, beads of condensation already upon his neck. “Gotta suspect everyone around the princeling. Including myself. Had to interrogate me real hard.”

Ignis rolled his eyes as he settled back into his seat. Over his shoulder the other table peeked at them again. “Don’t,” he rumbled and twisted the cap off his own identical beer. _Tashim’s_ , it read in bold red letters. “Don’t give something else to worry about.”

“But Iggy’s always the man with the plan,” he teased, with the easiest smile he had been able to muster in days. There had been little to smile about but the Gladio would not rather spend these difficult days with anyone else. Just having familiar faces looking back at him was soothing enough.

Ignis’ hand cut through the air. “No more work talk,” he insisted. “It’s just you and me tonight.”

If he were a little more foolish Gladio might have taken that as an invitation. Maybe one day with a few more beers he would succumb to temptation – tonight he simply laughed and kicked back. The beer soothed his parched throat. Whatever Ignis paid, Gladio would happily pay it twice over.

“Thanks for asking me away,” Gladio said, setting the beer back against the table but never letting go. The cold was too satisfying against his sweaty skin. “Things have been a little tense recently, huh.”

It was an understatement. Gladio had no idea how to broach the sensitive topic and so he clumsily pushed his way through with no sense of grace. Ignis’ responding smile was wry. “Undeniably,” he said between gulps of his own beer. Gladio allowed himself a moment of watching Ignis’ lean and bare throat work overtime. “I don’t envy you the role of Shield these days. Rather thought a drink would be the least we could offer each other. Some stress has been relieved since we arrived, knowing Iris is safe, but…”

He trailed off endlessly. Gladio let him. It was better to not speak to expectantly of the future. Within the buzzing streets, it was good enough to just enjoy tonight. “Would be cool to take a breather and check out the markets tomorrow. Could hit a hunt or two and see about restocking our ingredients – might as well take advantage, and I know you’ve been worried about it.”

A single fine eyebrow arched. “I didn’t say a word.”

“Sure, but it’s hard to miss you triple checking all the bags and swearing that ferociously,” Gladio replied and Ignis couldn’t help but laugh softly, knowing he was caught. “For someone who’s usually so subtle, I swear Leviathan herself could hear you.”

“I suppose I have no defence. It’s a pet peeve not having the basics, that’s all I’ll say.”

“Then we’ll grab ‘em while we’re here,” Gladio said simply. “Anything to keep the brains of the operation thinking straight.”

“If you’re looking to keep me stress free, I’d thank you for keeping a better eye on the Regalia’s fuel,” Ignis replied, perfectly deadpan, but only smiled around a sip of beer in response to Gladio’s guffaws. “I know that’s hardly a task worthy of you. But it certainly will concern you when you’re pushing us beneath a streetlamp as the sun falls over the horizon.”

“Oof,” Gladio said with a lightness the scene didn’t deserve. “Sure thing, Captain.”

Ignis took another mouthful and glanced aside. His bottle was already half empty. It was easy now to bask in the unfamiliar and unique beauty of their surroundings. Then again, anything would be beautiful compared to dull and winding roads that stretched on forever through the same damp forestland. For a while Gladio had found it breathtaking, and then even he began to grow tired of the wilderness. Even a man like him needed the city now and again to refresh his love. A shower and a firm mattress were godsdamn blessings.

Something smelt fantastic. Everything within Lestallum was phenomenal – the people, the technology, the awkward old architecture built for practicality over longevity. Some buildings were wind battered and crumbling in places. Lights were on in every cramped window. Most had chairs in the balconies and drying clothes left high in the windows. It was nothing like Insomnia, intimate and tightly packed, and Gladio wasn’t sure whether or not he appreciated the mass of people. It was good to see friendly faces, but Gladio could never be certain how friendly they truly were.

At any other point Gladio might have been up for an adventure. A bar crawl where Noctis was obliterated long before any other, trying every restaurant in the city like they had all the time in the world. They would come back one day, he promised himself, no matter Noctis’ new responsibilities as king and a married man. They would find a way to return and have the road trip they were owed.

“How is Iris,” Ignis asked, and Gladio was drawn once again out of a daydream.

“She’s good,” he said haltingly. They had passed many market stalls laden with sweets and Gladio thought perhaps he would sweep a few for his sister and little Talcott on the slow journey back. If not, Gladio could wait until morning. He wasn’t yet sure if he would be seeing straight. “Stressed, obviously. Hurting. But she really likes having us here. The company does her some good.”

Whenever they spoke of Iris, Ignis’ eyes went fond and soft. Gladio appreciated him all the more. “I’m glad,” he murmured. “I can only imagine the toll her experiences in Insomnia would have taken. Will you be sharing her room tonight?”

“Probably,” Gladio sighed. “She said she was doing alright, but I can’t imagine she’s being honest after all this. Probably just doesn’t want me to worry. Jared says she’s not been sleeping much either, up real late, so she’ll probably come knocking like she did as a kiddo.”

“Understandable,” Ignis said and took a steadying sip. “You’re a wonderful brother, Gladio. I think your comfort is something she needs – whether she admits it or not. She is a strong girl, but your presence is unparalleled.”

“Shucks,” Gladio said, hoping his ears would soon stop burning. He took his own drink to distract himself. Sweat made the nape of his neck unbearably sweaty, and he considered losing his jacket. “Just gotta keep it together a few days. Think we could all use a moment to sit back and think.”

Ignis nodded but said nothing. When his brows slowly furrowed, lips parting to speak, they were suddenly interrupted.

There was the thud of boots over tile, purposeful and pointed, and Gladio turned his head sharply.

A woman strode toward them, short and tan and as generously built as all of Lestallum’s women. Two plates were carefully balanced in each hand and a strained apron was tied haphazardly around her waist. Alarmed by Gladio’s sudden distraction, Ignis glanced over, and then smiled.

“Ah,” he said and put his napkins aside. “Thank you.”

The waitress was flushed pink from the heat of the kitchens. She looked determinedly at their table and avoided their faces, setting Gladio’s plate down first. “Hello,” she said and cleared her throat softly when her voice wavered. “Two bulette skewers, with mixed sides.”

They looked like perfection. On the sides of each plate there were bowls of salad with baby carrots and dip, delightfully fresh. Corn on the cob sat on one side next to a generous pile of fries. A wonderful smell greeted his nose and Gladio had entirely forgotten how tired he had been. Ignis knew each of his friends tastes to perfection, and Gladio still marvelled.

“You’re a saint,” Gladio wasn’t entirely sure who he was speaking to, but it came from the heart. Enjoying one last mouthful of beer as the waitress set Ignis’ food in front of him, he watched the flush spread across her skin. Her hands were uneasy, knotting together once free. Gladio was trained to see the unexplained tremor in her body.

“Is there anything else I can get you,” she asked, and before Gladio could speak Ignis turned his smile upon her.

“Could I request another of the same,” he asked, tipping his still half full glass towards her.

“Of course,” she said, eyes still staring determinedly at his plate. “Just a few moments and I’ll be with you, okay?”

“No rush,” Ignis said but she was already gone. She scurried back towards the safety of her bar and slipped behind the counter. They watched her a few moments, equal parts bemused and concerned.

They shared a long look and Gladio laughed a little. “Seems a little skittish,” he commented.

“Can’t blame the poor dear,” Ignis said mysteriously, and pushed his plate toward the middle of the table before Gladio could speak. “Help yourself. I ordered a mix for us both.”

It looked incredible – fresh and colourful and Gladio didn’t know where to start. So he pushed his own plate forward and took a soothing swig of beer. It settled his parched throat. Lestallum was delectable, and at this moment, his favourite place the whole world over.

“Thanks, Igs,” he said and used a fork to spear leaf and carrot. “Looks amazing.”

As always Ignis’ trusty notebook and pen lay at their side. His eyes gleamed as he began, going straight for the skewers, napkins neatly folded.

A companionable silence fell over them as it did at every meal. Ignis chewed with a thoughtful look, plucking bell pepper and halloumi from the spear. Gladio fell upon his far more gracelessly – appreciative, but eager to sate his hunger. All the while laughter rang out over the music, reminding him intensely of the Galahdan quarter back at home, and Gladio knew true peace for the first time in weeks. He could only hope that Ignis felt the same way.

If Ignis was put off by how he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand he said nothing. “Damn,” Gladio crowed, only remembering his manners at the last minute. “This is good.”

“I must say, it’s better than I anticipated.” Ignis quirked a look towards the bar. “Perhaps if I apply gentle pressure they might let me in on a few tricks of their trade – or their spice sources, if I’m lucky.”

“Or you could just flash ‘em that winning smile,” Gladio teased and popped a chunk of halloumi into his own mouth. It was sweet and soft, but nowhere as good as Ignis’.

Ignis’ responding smile was charmingly wonky. “Perhaps I might have better luck with your own.”

Gladio scoffed through another mouthful. It was hard to resist. “Nah, bet they’ll just be intimidated. And I dunno if that’s a bit much for our first night in town.”

Shaking his head, Ignis wore a knowing look. Settling back into his seat he crossed his long legs, feet nudging Gladio’s calves. “Hardly. You seem a very popular chap so far.”

Halfway through munching through seared chunks of meat, he frowned up at Ignis. “Huh?”

“Come now,” Ignis said with no clarification, and pushed a napkin across the table before Gladio could wipe his mouth with the back of his hand again.

It took a moment to remember his manners. Gladio dabbed cautiously, clearing his throat. It would only be a matter of time before he was too sweaty and disgusting to remember social niceties. Gladio grunted, already uncomfortably sticky.

“What’d you mean,” he asked and Ignis tilted his head.

“Surely you’ve noticed your popularity,” he said and rolled one shoulder back towards the other table. A new couple had claimed another set of seats. Neither of the groups paid them any heed as Gladio watched.

Gladio threw up his brows. Ignis watched him steadily, glass neck resting against his lips. Gladio tried very hard not to stare. “Meaning?”

“Such coy behaviour is beyond a man such as yourself,” Ignis chided and took a mouthful of his beer, fine green eyes flitting towards the bar. He laughed sparingly to himself for a moment before meeting Gladio’s eyes again, dead on. “Stay charming for your admirer, Gladio.”

“Huh,” Gladio said again, uselessly and graceless, and a presence appeared again at his left.

The cap upon a beer bottle twisted off with a hiss and the waitress tapped the bottle down on Ignis’ side of the table. “Here you go,” she said, stammering a little, and wiped her hands upon her apron. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Ignis turned his wise eyes to Gladio. “Gladio?”

They each watched him. Ignis met him head on with a small smile while she stared firmly at his collarbones. Gladio sat up, abruptly feeling like he was missing a point everyone else understood perfectly.

“Uh,” he swallowed, caught between them both. “Uh, I’m good. Thanks.”

The waitress ducked her knees in a tiny curtesy. “Please enjoy your meals,” she said quickly, words almost slurring together in a rush. Then she was gone as suddenly as she had arrived, gone in a twirl of her apron and a flash of blonde hair.

Ignis pushed the fresh beer towards him. “Well,” he hummed. “I think she’s quite a fan.”

Gladio knew the nervous type all too well. She reminded him half of Prompto in some small way, a lightning strike of personality that left you dazed, and the nervous girls that his father would force him to entertain. “A fan of…?”

“You,” Ignis said bluntly and sharply cut a carrot in half. “Didn’t you see how she was looking at you?”

Gladio’s brows sunk. “She wasn’t looking at me.”

“Precisely,” he said and popped the carrot into his mouth. He chewed a moment and swallowed, continuing, “Too handsome to even look at. I think, as long as you remain both charming and cautious, you could have a rather delightful evening.”

Immediately Gladio understood. A familiar sensation of his heart sinking deeply into his gut made his blood run uncomfortably cold. “Ah,” he said, and schooled his expression into something good natured. It was difficult to remain calm. Suddenly he felt exposed, skin prickling. “I’m good. I don’t like bothering people when they’re trying to make a living, y’know?”

“I understand. Perhaps she’ll be finishing a shift soon,” Ignis suggested. “Might as well ask - you're more respectful than most, I imagine, and she may be receptive."

“Ah,” he said again and scrambled for any form of escape. “I really shouldn’t.”

Ignis laughed – a genuine, lovely sound. “I’ve never known you to be the shy or reluctant type.”

“I try not to mess around while on duty.”

Ignis reached over to pluck a fry from his plate. He surveyed Gladio thoughtfully. “This is a unique situation, and perhaps the only chance you might get for a while. I can hold down the fort and I’m sure the boys won’t mind. They’ll tease a little, of course.”

Another, longer swig of beer. Gladio’s hands shook a little. “I’m good. Appreciate it, though.”

He kept his head down. A warmth crawled the nape of his neck while the deepest reaches of cold filled his belly. He knew Ignis was watching him closely. He could never escape those quick eyes for long.

Cutlery clattered around them. Teams of workers wandered close by to take shortcuts into the heart of the city. Sweat gleamed on every brow but each face wore happiness. They were having a wonderful evening. _Don’t make it awkward,_ he told himself.

His plate was clear with nothing but empty sticks neatly lined up. He toyed thoughtlessly with one, licking the spice off his thumb. Ignis ate his far more patiently and yet never one reached for his notebook.

“It was a rare thing that we met any of your partners,” Ignis said, perfectly casual and calm, and Gladio’s defences still quietly rose. “I never got the impression that you put much serious thought into dating. Despite your father’s best attempts, of course.”

Gladio laughed a little, hoping that it didn’t obviously ring hollow. “I didn’t really have much time to enjoy myself.”

Ignis’ fine brows arched. “Gladio, I had a few partners. If I had the time, so did you.”

Thinking of Ignis’ odd, barely there boyfriends didn’t help much. They were very few and far between but Ignis loved them freely, hand in hand during dates within Ignis’ free lunches. None ever were trusted enough to meet Noctis but Gladio knew them all. The cheerful to the shy, wiry to the bulky. He saw enough to know that Ignis loved purely, intensely, and Gladio envied them both.

For years Gladio had longed to do the same. It seemed all he did was out of a misguided attempt to make his family proud. His feelings for men were pushed aside and the jealousy he felt watching Ignis walk freely simmered beneath the surface. It was unspoken anxiety still holding him back. Perhaps, with Ignis, there was no reason for it – but still the words stuck.

Gladio stabbed at a fry. “Sure,” he said noncommittally, and said nothing more.

Resting his arms against the table, Ignis exhaled softly. “I don’t mean to offend.”

Ignis never did. All these years Ignis had never been one to overstep nor pry. Unlike his nosy little brother and stubborn Prince he was content with anything that Gladio was willing to share. Ignis would offer him a beer and a smile and Gladio wouldn’t have to worry about anything else. Nothing had to hurt by Ignis’ side.

But a part of him felt guilty for not opening up sooner. Ignis’ own coming out to their ragtag crew as a young teen was casual, but Gladio had seen the defensiveness in the defiant way he held his head high. Just like his father he was a scrappy kid who would furiously fight anyone who questioned him and Gladio respected that. When his own realisation followed years later, he couldn’t carry that same strength.

“I know,” Gladio said softly. “I get it. It’s just…”

There was too much on each of their plates. Everything that buzzed within Gladio’s head was miniscule compared to the weight upon their shoulders. The world had been turned on its head and Gladio was the one who had to hold his focus. On behalf of his prince he kept his eyes on the prize and wouldn’t let even the wildest waters tear him away.

It was the little moments that made him waver. All of their trust and love stole their legendary focus. Prompto curled up next to him for quick cat naps, yawning widely and nuzzling close, and Noctis blundered through the bush behind him, fisting the back of his jacket, determined not to lose sight. Ignis’ wonderous smile and the food he made often just because he knew it was Gladio’s favourite and Gladio knew it was love. The kind that could never budge, and never for such a minor reason.

Still Gladio shook at the thought. His heart thumped hard, desperate for the attention Gladio had denied it, and he exhaled harshly. He could no longer let his head rule his heart.

With them, Ignis was loving and patient to a remarkable degree. But he quirked his head and picked at the label of his beer as if himself anxious. “Just…?” He prompted, and Gladio looked away.

Ignis was a bloodhound for half-truths. Years of Noctis insisting he had completed his homework had trained him _. I don’t like dating_ was a tiny lie, a speck of a thing, and Ignis would know. Ignis always knew.

His throat drew a little tighter. His shoulders were drawn, and tense and he stared at the fraying tablecloth. “I lied to you,” he admitted before he stumbled through and ruin their evening any further. It wasn’t right to lie to a man who always opened his heart to him. “It’s not that I didn’t have time.”

There wasn’t a lick of surprise upon Ignis’ face. “What is it, love,” he asked softly, and something in Gladio’s chest rattled.

“I’m gay,” he said in a rush, casting himself into the rush of merciless water and bracing himself against the cold, and Ignis’ wonderful lips parted.

“Oh,” he said, and his voice was faint. “I see.”

Gladio downed the rest of his liquid courage. He desperately wanted another. Ignis’ surprised expression was too much tonight. The scent of good food now made his belly queasy.

This would change everything Gladio knew. His future and his reputation, how the people he adored looked at him. It was an unbearable uncertainty but the freedom he had longed for all these years, and Gladio couldn’t comprehend it.

Ignis sat up in his chair and his expression changed for the best. It lightened and a little laugh escaped him. “Gladio, you must excuse me. I… wasn’t expecting this, certainly.”

That was something, at least. Perhaps if even Ignis hadn’t seen the truth Gladio had done a good enough job of hiding it that the others were clueless. “Didn’t want to advertise it.”

“I understand,” Ignis said as patiently as ever. “Am I the only one who knows?”

Gladio nodded silently and Ignis’ lips formed a soft oh. “You honour me,” he said kindly and smiled. “May I offer my gratitude and congratulations?”

Uncertain, Gladio looked up at him. “You’re not mad?”

“Oh, Gladiolus,” Ignis said scoldingly, like a parent. “Why ever would I be mad at you for such a thing?”

Against everything it felt silly. It was silly, he thought, twenty-three and coming out to his closest friend, almost shaking. It didn’t matter what anyone thought of him, he told himself, knowing that it wasn’t true. There were too many people in his life who would care about such a small thing. Too many people in his future, and he only took comfort in Ignis’ soft look. “I don’t know.”

With a soft sigh Ignis leaned forward. Their food lay forgotten. “I know why,” he murmured. His eyes carried heavy sympathy. “You wanted to please everyone whose eyes are on you. You carry a great weight. People look to you for what they see as the right behaviour, and to carry their honour. Amicitia shit, you always used to say.”

It had only been in light terms in the beginning. Missing a night out with his boys, skipping etiquette lessons for a meeting with his father’s closest aides. Amicitia shit, he always said with a grin and a wave of his hand, and no one had ever questioned it. It ran deeper than that. So much deeper, and Ignis couldn’t ever have understood it.

But there was something glimmering in his eyes. Ignis joined his hands together, a touch wistful. “I understand. I know it’s a deeply personal thing, and your circumstances are different, but I do understand.”

The waitress emerged from the restaurant. She made a beeline for the new table, balancing four plates in her hands and forearms, and she still wore a bold flush. She didn’t look over at them, and Ignis glanced only sparingly, a serious expression set. “I was worried about the very same, once,” he began quietly. “Of course, the Leonis line is barely a dull stone beside the brilliance of the Amicitia family. We carry some power but no history, nothing more than common blood elevated by great deed. As a lad growing up I fret over the very same pressure – ensuring the line through marriage, having heirs. Making my father proud above all else.”

He smiled to himself a moment. The label of his beer was shredded beyond recognition. “Girls were a mystery to me, and I thought the disinterest would change with time – and it never did.” He laughed very faintly, without much humour. “I looked at my parents – two men who adored me and each other – and still couldn’t shake the all-consuming fear. What if they wanted grandchildren? Surely the Leonis line would still require an heir. A profitable match perhaps, my elevated role by Noctis’ side matched with some poor girl’s lineage. And I dreaded it – I could never love and cherish a woman the way she deserved. The way some men talked about women – I couldn’t do any of that. And then…”

Gladio watched, wrought with anxiety. Ignis closed his eyes a moment and exhaled. After, he kept them closed. When his glasses slipped down his nose, he straightened them wordlessly out of habit. “I met a boy my age who was so enthralling. So brave, and fun. Bright. And I realised… well, you know the rest. My parents love me all the same and Cor is far more vested in the happiness of his children than the future of his name. And I grew up happy, and true to myself.”

Gladio watched him in silence. For a moment Ignis kept those eyes closed, heavy lashes against pale cheeks, and Gladio had wanted to kiss him for near enough a decade. Those were feelings he had crushed, pushing them deeper and deeper, only for them to steadily emerge when he was at his weakest. He had thought this fear was his alone – it was tragic and yet comforting that Ignis stood the same.

“I am deeply fortunate, I know. And I know our families are not the same. But know that many are more interested in your happiness than the beast that is tradition.”

It was a delirious thought. Gladio swallowed hard around the thick lump in his throat. “Is it really that easy?”

Sea glass green eyes met his. “It can be,” he promised. “I merely want you to be happy, and safe in the knowledge that Noct – that all of us – respect you greatly. We love you still, and always will.”

It grew impossible to swallow. The lump grew as heavy and wide as a stone, like his clenched fist. His chest ached but he let the tension bleed out as much as he could, letting the weight slowly diminish. Here, he was safe. Here, he was loved. Gladio’s heart would pound for the rest of the night. But it would calm slowly, soothed by Ignis’ easy smile andforgiving nature.

It was easy to feel like he wasn’t truly seen. Like no one could see past his title, his tattoos. But Ignis saw him – the intricate details, and he wavered. “Thanks, Iggy.”

“You’re welcome,” he said very softly, and they spent a short while in silence.

It was difficult to say how Gladio had gotten here. There had been years spent antagonizing himself, expecting the very worst at every turn. Worry about whether a woman could ever love him, if boys could ever want him, if he could be enough and meet every single expectation. Now that was the least of his concern, survival taking priority – but maybe in the future there could be tranquillity.

All he had to cope with now was the way his heart gravitated helplessly towards Ignis.

“So,” Ignis said conversationally, and Gladio glanced up at him. “Shall we hop bars until we can find someone handsome enough for your tastes?”

An easy going laugh escaped him without his permission and Ignis laughed in turn, amused and delighted by his new smile. “Well, that’s not a no.”

“Maybe another time,” Gladio promised, settling back in his chair as he helped himself to Ignis’ plate, and Lestallum stood even brighter than before.


End file.
